


Wax Poetic About My Untimely Demise

by capyshota



Series: A Guide to Navigating Your Dead Brother's Voyeurism [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Assisted Masturbation, Ben's POV, Clueless Hargreeves Siblings, Incest Kink, M/M, Non-Contact Sexual Encounters, Pseudo-Incest, Semi-public masturbation, Situational Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-07 14:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capyshota/pseuds/capyshota
Summary: Over the years, Ben has grown to appreciate the art of people-watching.At first, it was infuriating being present for conversations and having your only means of contributing be your perpetually buzzed brother. But now he manages to gain satisfaction from acting as a spectator.And besides, sometimes commenting just for Klaus is more than enough…In true Klaus fashion, Ben thinks through his plan all of zero times before opening his mouth.“God, Klaus, I want your cock inside me.”For the second time in as many minutes, Klaus starts hacking and gasping for air.





	Wax Poetic About My Untimely Demise

When someone knocks on the door of Klaus’ bedroom, Ben can only assume it’s Luther.

Klaus grunts half-heartedly in response. It’s all the invitation Luther needs to push the door open and lean inside.

“Hey, uh… hey, Klaus,” he whispers.

No response.

“Listen, I know today is probably pretty tough for you, but… I just wanted to let you know that I’m here for you if you need me.”

Ben watches Luther shift awkwardly. He looks around the room briefly before settling his gaze back on the lump atop the bed.

“So… yeah. I’m trying to get everyone together a little later to… talk about it. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.”

Klaus lets out a long-winded breath which Luther appropriately takes as his cue to leave.

“I’ll… I’ll see you later, then,” he says, closing the door behind him.

Klaus sits up slowly, pushing his hair off his forehead, and shoots Ben an incredulous look which he answers with a shrug.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” His voice is gravelly with sleep. Klaus pauses to think. “…Is it the anniversary of when my pet bird flew away? That was pretty traumatic.”

Ben stands from his seat in Klaus’ old recliner.

“That was a pigeon you caught on the roof and dragged back into your room. It shit on everything and almost blinded you in its pure panic before escaping through the window.”

Klaus smiles sleepily. “Mm, yeah… Günter was sweet.”

Ben doesn’t bother asking if Klaus is planning to go to the meeting; his curiosity knows no bounds. So he sits back and watches Klaus get ready for the day. There’s something so calming about watching the living make their way through routines he hasn’t taken part in for over a decade. It’s definitely a more tangible tether to earth than speaking to Klaus, which is comparable to attaching a jumper cable directly to your brain stem.

Klaus is humming under his breath while he searches the floor for anything with the potential to cover skin. The perpetual dark circles under his eyes are a little less pronounced than they used to be, and he’s starting to fill out between the prominent jut of his ribs.

Ben wants to take at least a small bit of the responsibility for that. Who would have guessed that it’d be your dead brother that motivates you to be a little more alive?

—

Klaus pulls a joint he’d rolled earlier from behind his ear and lights it as he flounces down the stairs. Seconds after he takes the first drag, Ben starts to feel a gentle numbness radiate out from his chest.

He doesn’t really mind his type of high. Instead of the full-body plunge into darkness, things just become a little fuzzy around the edges—Ben might even say it’s comfortable after all this time. Maybe this is what being high feels like for Klaus, too.

Whether he notices it or not, Klaus has been straying father than usual from the harder drugs which effectively cut Ben’s tie to him, and dunk him into the empty nothingness. It’s a welcome change, very welcome, and Ben hopes it lasts.

He trails behind Klaus as he rounds the corner into the formal room. Siblings One through Seven, sans Ben and Klaus, are already gathered and whispering amongst themselves.

When Klaus walks in they all look up, noticeably silencing.

“Hey, can we take that picture of Five down?” Klaus gestures to the portrait above the fireplace. “Now that he’s back it feels a little too haunted mansion. Like the eyes are following me,” Klaus mumbles around the joint between his lips.

He sits back on the couch and props his bare feet up on the table.

When he receives five empty looks in response, he adds, “Just a suggestion.”

Luther clears his throat and shuffles uncomfortably on the spot.

“So… I was wondering if anyone would like to say a few words? It’s been… a long time, now, but I don’t think our wounds can truly heal until we—” Luther makes a graceless gesture outwards from his chest which reminds Ben more of _Alien_ than whatever heartfelt meaning was intended, “—get all our feelings out in the open.”

Ben sits himself down at the end of the couch, a spot Klaus frequently reserves for him without conscious thought.

Silence reigns for another few moments before Luther picks back up.

“Um… Would anyone like to start…?”

Klaus starts picking at his nails, throwing Ben a glance that reads something like, _Am I the only one in this room with no fucking concept of what is going on?_

Ben shrugs in solidarity.

Allison clears her throat and all heads turn towards her.

“I… I know it’s been a while since we were all together.” She folds her hands together in her lap and smiles, humourless. “More than ‘a while’, I guess. But… we were never given the time we needed to get over our trauma.”

“That narrows it down,” Ben mutters. “Every day of our lives was basically _trauma à la carte_ served on a silver platter.”

Klaus exhales in a sigh, dropping his head against the back of the couch. He plucks the joint from between his lips and flexes his toes. After thirteen years together, Ben knows every tell Klaus has ever shown, and at the moment, each one is speaking to his restlessness.

Allison seems to detect something similar and she frowns in his direction. “Klaus… I know how close you two were.”

Klaus points to himself questioningly.

Diego, sitting to his right, studies him incredulously. “How fucking high are you right now?”

Klaus waves his joint like a dog treat in front of Diego’s face. “Just the one, amigo. Hardly buzzed.”

“Who were you close to?” Ben asks, trying to help Klaus solve the puzzle.

He answers with an annoyed stare along the lines of, _Dad never let us leave this shitty house, you think I had friends?_

“ _Anyway,_ ” Allison continues, pushing past the interruption, “I wanted to say thank you, wherever he is, for everything he did for all of us. He was so kind and selfless and… it still hurts, even though it’s been thirteen years since…”

“Oh _shit_ ,” Ben says, remembering exactly why this date is so significant just a moment before Klaus does.

“…since Ben died.”

The realization hits him so suddenly, Klaus starts choking. He coughs, smoke sputtering from his lungs, and slams his feet back onto the ground.

Vanya leans forward, concerned, while Diego thumps him on the back.

“I’m—” Klaus wheezes, “—I’m fine. Just…” He shoves Diego away with one hand and holds the other to his chest. “… _so_ distraught. My dearest brother, taken too soon, never to be heard from again.”

“Not for a lack of trying,” Ben says.

Klaus ignores him. “This earth is so cruel—” He chokes on a sob. “You know, I’d really rather not have to talk about it.”

Luther looks about as confused as Ben would expect. “Uh… alright. Does anyone else have anything else to say?”

Thirteen years. More than a decade at Klaus’ side; inseparable and inexplicable.

Over the years, Ben has grown to appreciate the art of people-watching. At first, it was infuriating being present for conversations and having your only means of contributing be your perpetually buzzed brother. But now he manages to gain satisfaction from acting as a spectator.

And besides, sometimes commenting just for Klaus is more than enough…

In true Klaus fashion, Ben thinks through his plan all of zero times before opening his mouth.

“ _God,_ Klaus, I want your cock inside me.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Klaus starts hacking and gasping for air.

Vanya stops mid-sentence in her belated eulogy and everyone turns to look at Klaus.

He reaches over and stubs his joint out on the table, clearing his throat wildly. After a few moments doubled over, he sits back and holds a hand out towards Vanya.

“My apologies,” he croaks, “The grief just keeps sneaking up on me. Continue.”

Ben bites his lip to keep from laughing.

Vanya looks between the rest of their siblings. “Uh… yeah, I just feel like he was always there for us…”

Klaus turns his head to Ben and widens his eyes a little bit, which he replies to with a smile. Ben is still harbouring a minor grudge about Klaus catching him all hot and bothered at his bedside the other week, and feels he deserves some retribution.

“I like to think I’m always there for you,” Ben says, “With an open heart… open mouth, open legs…”

The corner of Klaus’ mouth quirks up.

“And while we’re on that topic, how do you think it would feel, fucking me?” Ben rarely takes the opportunity to just speak without ever expecting a reply; it’s lovely. “Because I’ve spent _a lot_ of time thinking about it. The way you would stretch me open, nice and slow, until I was drooling, face down on the bed, fucking myself onto your fingers.”

A gentle flush creeps up Klaus’ neck to his ears and he closes his eyes for the briefest moment to gain some semblance of composure.

“Maybe you’d use your tongue?” Ben goes on. “All hot and wet, getting me ready to take your cock?”

There’s something electric possessing Ben—he would never, ever have been able to say these things when he was alive. Hell, he probably couldn’t have said them a month ago. He’s having the deceased equivalent of an adrenaline rush, and doesn’t even consider the crash that will eventually happen.

“Do you like the way I’m talking to you, Klaus?”

Klaus nods, almost imperceptibly.

“Good. I had a great teacher.”

“…And I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore,” Vanya finishes, pursing her lips.

“Oh, he’s not the one suffering,” Klaus mutters.

He’s afforded a few concerned and misguided looks.

“Diego?” Luther turns, “Would you like to say something?”

Diego stares back blankly for a few moments; everyone knows Luther’s request was more of an order than a suggestion.

“Uh…” Diego sits back. “Ben was… great. He was fun. I mean… pretty shy, and stressed all the time, but still a great brother.”

Ben grins. “Aw, that’s sweet,” he says. “Maybe Diego could join us sometime. I’m sure he would love to watch you get yourself off; he just seems like the type. And you wouldn’t complain, would you?”

Klaus crosses his legs and Ben feels a rush of victory. His cock is already straining against his pants, and even though Ben is the only one who knows, the potential for Diego to look over and see is real and Klaus knows it.

Ben clicks his tongue. “Mourning your beloved, long-dead brother, and you have the audacity to get an erection. Dirty boy.”

Klaus’ chin quivers a little, loving the gentle reprimanding.

“You want me to sit on it, for you? Oh, that would be so fucking hot,” Ben breathes, “Riding your lap, letting everyone watch you stretch me open on your cock—”

Klaus lets out a muffled moan, just as much pain as pleasure, and bites the inside of his cheek.

Diego pauses. He leans over to Klaus, who hastily folds his hands in his lap to hide the bulge in his pants, and whispers, “Man, you can… you can leave, you know. If it’s too much. Nobody will blame you.”

Klaus clamps his lips together and robotically shakes his head.

“…Okay. I’m here for you, bro, yeah?”

Klaus alters the direction so the shake becomes a nod.

Diego continues. “So if Ben was here with us, I guess I’d just… want to thank him. He was a good kid with a good heart.”

Ben whistles. “I definitely want him in on the action. I bet he’s an attentive lover.”

“Hey, Five’s been uncharacteristically quiet,” Klaus interrupts, squeezing his legs together a little tighter. “What’s wrong? Share with the class.”

Five frowns at him, although it’s more his perpetual expression than it is a show of displeasure.

“I didn’t know Ben very well. But he was the only one of you that didn’t make me want to perform a recreational lobotomy, so that’s something.”

Ben lets out a shocked laugh. “That’s the nicest thing he’s ever said about me. But don’t try to change the subject, Klaus,” Ben murmurs, leaning in to Klaus’ ear. “I know you like when I watch you… Would you like to watch me? Watch someone else fuck me?”

Even though there’s no breath, no heat, _nothing_ sensory about the action, the hairs on the back of Klaus’ neck stand up.

Ben observes him. Everything from the way his hair stands, to the way his pants cling to his thighs. It isn’t often that Ben takes advantage of the few opportunities being dead and having a medium for a brother affords. This is certainly one of the best he’s discovered thus far.

When the silence is left for too long, Klaus whimpers, “Don’t stop.” He slaps a hand over his mouth when he realizes he’d said it out loud.

Ben grins. “Don’t worry, I’m here. God, you’re so needy today, hm?”

Taking note of the eyes on him, Klaus clears his throat and turns to Five, putting on an impressive mask of stoicism.

“Don’t stop,” he says simply. “Your comments are lovely. Heart-warming, even.” He punctuates it with a smile.

Five narrows his eyes. “…Right. As I was saying, Ben would occasionally come to me with questions on modern metaphysics, and we—”

“So I’m gonna go ahead and guess that you really like thinking about someone else fucking me.” Ben rests against the back of the couch, tilting his head lazily towards Klaus. “…Either that, or you’re jealous. I don’t know which option I like more.”

The pink in Klaus’ ears begins to drift across his cheeks.

Ben slides off the couch to kneel at Klaus’ feet.

Five is still discussing some completely unrelated topic.

“How do I look on my knees?” Ben coos.

Klaus’ eyes are glazed over when they flick down to him.

“Good, right? Like you imagined?” Ben quite enjoys the silent frustration radiating from Klaus.

Even though he can’t touch him, Ben reaches out and runs a hand along the length of Klaus’ thigh, imagining the heat and the smooth slide of leather.

Klaus shivers, watching him closely.

“Too bad you’re not wearing a skirt today; you could lift it up for me, show me everything without anyone else seeing.” Ben shifts closer, chin hovering over Klaus’ knee. “I’d love to suck you off under a skirt,” he murmurs.

Klaus lets a heavy breath out between his teeth.

“My head bobbing up and down under the fabric. Is that a nice mental image? …Or would you prefer to be able to see my lips around your cock?” He braces his hands against the couch on either side of Klaus’ thighs. “You could watch my tongue swirl around the head, see the nice, slick trail of spit I leave behind.”

Klaus looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

Ben leans even closer, until his face is only a few inches from Klaus’ bulge, and licks his lips. “…Think I could make you come right here?”

Klaus’ jaw shifts. The look on his face is clear enough permission for Ben to at least try.

Ben presses two fingers to his tongue, pouting his lips and sliding them in and out of his mouth. Klaus absolutely _eats it up_. His hands curl into fists in his lap, and Ben can actually see his pulse bounding in his neck.

He moans around the fingers for good measure—that sound that Klaus dragged out of his the other week that he now can’t get enough of.

Klaus starts grinding his hand down against his cock in barely perceptible circles, enough that you’d have to be looking for it to notice.

Ben slips his fingers from his mouth. “You gonna rub yourself off for me? Come in your pants?” he hums, and licks his lips. “In front of our family?”

Tears are welling in Klaus’ eyes. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth and gnaws in it.

Just as Five is about to start on an entirely new tangent, Allison interrupts with a polite, “Thank you, Five. I’m sure Ben would appreciate your words.”

“You know I’ve never been fucked before,” Ben breathes, “I would be so tight when you push your cock into me.”

Klaus sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, lips trembling like he wants so badly to speak but can’t.

“But after you got going, _shit,_ I’d be screaming your name loud enough that everyone in the mansion would hear,” Ben continues. “You want your virgin brother screaming your name? Showing everyone how good you can fuck me?” he asks.

Klaus’ tongue peeks out from between his lips and his eyebrows furrow as he concentrates on blocking out everything except Ben’s voice. The hand in his lap works faster, and Ben is surprised Diego hasn’t noticed the way he’s gently bouncing on the couch cushion.

Ben gasps, dropping his head back and amping up the act.

“Klaus, _Klaus,_ it feels so fucking good, you’re so big.”

He starts to mimic the way Klaus moans when he’s getting fucked at just the right angle—short, breathy little whimpers—and Klaus _most definitely_ recognizes the likeness.

His eyes grow wide just as Allison starts to speak again.

“I just…” Allison looks into her lap. “I wish he could be here with us.”

_“Harder, Klaus, harder!”_

“See who we’ve all become…”

_“So full with your cock.”_

“…See what losing him did to us.”

_“Yeah, right there, don’t stop!”_

Ben starts bouncing in his spot on the floor, bracing his hands against his knees and spreading his thighs. He tilts his head and bites his lip, and he’s sure it isn’t even close to how good Klaus makes himself look, but it’s enough.

Klaus’ nails scrape against the floor when he curls his toes.

“I’m close, Klaus,” Ben gasps, “Gonna come. You want me to come on you? All over your face, so you can taste me?”

By now, Klaus is openly watching him, hungry eyes roaming over his thighs and up his chest. His breathing is ragged and his shoulders draw up, taut for orgasm.

Ben whimpers, “Come inside me, Klaus; in your baby brother— _shit_.”

Klaus comes with a quiet gasp, squeezing his eyes shut and rocking gently in his seat. The fist pressed to his cock is white-knuckled.

“ _Jesus,_ Klaus.” Ben groans. “You look so good. Fill me up, baby.” Ben isn’t usually one for pet names, but this is a special occasion.

Short, harsh breaths are all Ben can hear as Klaus comes down. It takes him a moment to realize that’s because everyone else in the room has fallen silent.

When Klaus opens his eyes, they’re glazed over and watering, and everyone is staring at him. He sniffs, recovering without so much as a pause.

“I’m just… so emotional,” he says, voice cracking.

Diego places a consoling hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t… look so good,” Allison murmurs.

“Yeah, you’re really warm.” Diego frowns. “You have a fever or some shit?”

“No. No, no, I’m fine,” Klaus murmurs, swallowing roughly.

Allison looks up at Luther briefly before speaking. “I… If you’re sure.”

“Was that good for you?” Ben murmurs with a grin. “I personally liked the part when you waxed poetic about my untimely demise.”

Klaus gives him something Ben would probably label a threatening look. Something along the lines of _I can’t fucking believe you just did that, and even though I loved it, you’re going to die a second time over by my hand._

Ben climbs back up onto the couch and Klaus’ glare follows him.

“Then…” Allison continues. “Luther? Would you like to say anything?”

Luther clears his throat. “To me, Ben was always the quiet one. A little tense, and not much of a fighter, but he was responsible, and he was reliable.”

“Stop flattering him, the last thing he needs in an ego,” Klaus mutters.

Ben tries to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah, you heard me,” Klaus says, in response to the eyes fixed on him. “All that _speaking ill of the dead_ stuff is total bullshit. Believe me, they can’t get any more obnoxious.”

Ben shrugs. “I can try, if you’d like.”

 _“So,”_ Klaus pointedly ignores him, “like you said, Luther, let’s get it all out there. Ben was a bit of a pain in the ass, right?”

Ben reclines against the arm of the couch and hums. “Mhm, the kind that leaves you limping the next morning.”

Klaus sets his jaw.

“You two were… best friends.” Allison frowns.

“Yeah, and it’s a shame that was all we were,” Ben sighs. “Remember those nights we would sneak into each other’s rooms and stay up all night talking? _God,_ just think of what else we could’ve been doing.”

“Yep.” Klaus claps his hands and the sudden noise makes several of them jump. “Best friends, gal pals, the whole nine yards. But sometimes I just wanted to—”

“Fuck me?”

“— _punch him in the face,_ you know?”

Everyone is gawking at him like he just grew an extra head.

Ben grins.

“I mean,” Klaus shrugs, “good riddance.”

“K-Klaus,” Luther stammers, “You can’t be serious?”

Klaus uncrosses his legs and Ben revels in the slight frown of discomfort.

“Can’t I? He already has a statue, which is a little excessive, if you ask me.”

Ben hums in agreement. “Although it was a nice sentiment. I think.”

Klaus sits back to a room so silent, Ben is sure he can hear the gears turning in everyone’s minds.

“So…” Klaus continues after a moment, standing from the sofa, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Hail Mary, and may peace be with you. I’m going to change my pants.”

With a curtsy, he sweeps out of the room.

Before he can round the corner to the stairs and disappear from sight, Ben calls, “I love you, too!”


End file.
